There was also General Palmora. He had declared himself a witness to the "defilement" of Princess Teskla, under Nick's caress. Now that events had taken such an unexpected turn, would he hold to his position or tell the truth? There might be reasons of state which would influence him to remain silent or even deny my statement. He was pure Bharbazonian, and I could not trust him to act where the interests of his country were involved.
I felt that I stood alone. Clearly, this was neither the time nor the place for me, a foreigner, to interfere in an affair which the nobles would consider did not concern me. There was a way of escape for Solonika. She had but to accept the issue temporarily. If the King demanded an immediate marriage, she could stand upon her right to request a reasonable delay. He could not deny her that. As soon as the coronation ceremony was over, I could easily have her prove that she was not present in Nischon at the time the King and his witnesses would set. Palmora would then be forced to speak, and Nicholas would have time to get out of the jurisdiction. I could best serve Solonika and my friend Nicholas by inaction at this time. The way was not so dark. There was one avenue of escape.
The church was thrown into confusion by the dénouement. Everybody talked at once and no voice was raised to restore order. The women were more wildly excited than the men. Grand Duke Marbosa was whispering to the nobles behind him. Was he, too, preparing to strike? The Prince had been discredited, but, if this proposed alliance of the two houses were effected, the Prince would grow too strong for him.
The General had his hand on Nick's shoulder. He was tugging nervously at his heavy moustache, but was not speaking. Both he and Nick were looking at Princess Teskla who was facing Nick with her arms at her side; only the presence of the people seemed to keep her from running to him for protection. She had done all that love could do for him. The King was as highly pleased at the result of his plan, as he had appeared in the garden when Teskla lied to him. The Red Fox's face was a study. He stood with one arm covering his eyes, as if to shut out the sight of his brother's face, and the other extended to the high altar toward his child.
"My son! my son!" he kept calling, just as he did in his library when he strove to remind her of her rôle of Prince.
But, even before I decided upon my course of action, events were going forward which took the solution out of my hands for ever. I can now see that the situation appeared in a totally different light to Solonika, ignorant as she was of the truth. She must have felt that she was being trapped; that discovery was sure; that there was no solution.
When the full import of Princess Teskla's words came home to her, Solonika crumpled up at the feet of the Patriarch. Her courage left her. She clutched his sandalled ankles in abject terror. She did not seem to notice her father's cry of "My son." I feared that she had given up in despair.
"Courage, Solonika!" I shouted, loud enough for her to hear, knowing that the import of my words would not be understood in the babel around us.
She did hear me. Almost before the cry left my throat she raised her head and looked straight into my eyes. Oh, the suffering and appeal in them. I have never seen and hope never to see again a look like that in eyes of any one I love. I smiled with encouragement and tried to telegraph the hope that was in me. I fancied she understood and I mistook the expression that passed over her face as one of resolve.
Her old courage seemed to return and, with it, full control of herself. She arose and stared down at me in her old dignified, regal manner. She was once more the brave Solonika who had sung "Down among the Dead Men" in Marbosa's lodge. I no longer feared for her, for I thought her able to meet this, the greatest crisis of her life. She came down from the high altar, unrestrained by the motionless Patriarch. I watched her drawing near to Princess Teskla who shrank away in fear.